


The Young Prince

by breathing_exe



Category: Cinderella (1950), Cinderella (Fairy Tale), Disney - All Media Types, Sleeping Beauty (1959), Sleeping Beauty (Fairy Tale)
Genre: Anal Sex, Coming Out, First Meetings, First Time, Forest Sex, Forests, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Power Bottom, Royalty, Swordfighting, Virginity Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-08 06:37:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18889183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breathing_exe/pseuds/breathing_exe
Summary: “Pathetic.” His father breathes out. Charming scoffs and pushes the elder’s sword away, bending down to grip his knees, regaining his breath.“I’m better than most the kingdom, I wager on it. I just can’t beat you.” Charming spits out.“You haven’t gone against anybody but me, so how would you know?” His father’s bulbous body passes in front of him towards the sitting quarters, skin red and flaming.“If I’d be allowed to leave my quarters freely, maybe I’d have someone else to practice with so I wouldn’t take up your precious time, your majesty.” He straightens up and walks over by his father, sitting down without being told.“You offend me, son. Do you not think I cherish these sessions?” Charming lifted an accusing brow, disbelief written plainly on his face. The King shook his head, exasperated.





	The Young Prince

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chooken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/gifts).



> Inspired by Chooken's wonderful story "Prince's Duty". I fell in love with the premise and spent weeks nonstop to create this so I hope I did you justice. So happy to finally publish this.

 

 

“Fix your stance! I’ve seen women stand manlier than you!”  _ Clank. _

“Chin straight damn it! You’d think for how long we’ve been doing this you'd have gotten it by now.”

“Sire, I do believe the boy has had enough for this session. I’ll get him cleaned up-“ 

“It’s enough when I say it’s enough.” Charming’s words fly out with spite. He grips his sword firmer and triples his efforts. Beads of sweat drip off his temples as he focuses solely on his father’s arm. Every twitch he mimics, never letting his father catch him by surprise. 

“We can,”  _ huff huff _ “We can go on like this forever. You copying and blocking me, but you will never strike. Will you, boy?” Charming’s arm begins to shake. The heaviness of his sword hindering what fight he had left in him. He screams in frustration and attempts to swing. He was countered, of course, because of his foolish announcement but that was the last of his efforts. He heaves and tosses his sword on the ground, the tip of another pressing firmly against his chest. 

“Pathetic.” His father breathes out. Charming scoffs and pushes the elder’s sword away, bending down to grip his knees, regaining his breath. 

“I’m better than most the kingdom, I wager on it. I just can’t beat you.” Charming spits out.

“You haven’t gone against anybody  _ but _ me, so how would you know?” His father’s bulbous body passes in front of him towards the sitting quarters, skin red and flaming.

“If I’d be allowed to leave my quarters freely, maybe I’d have someone else to practice with so I wouldn’t take up your precious time, your  _ majesty. _ ” He straightens up and walks over by his father, sitting down without being told. 

“You offend me, son. Do you not think I cherish these sessions?” Charming lifted an accusing brow, disbelief written plainly on his face. The King shook his head, exasperated. 

“Otherwise, why would I let someone else fight with you when you can’t even beat me?” The fat of his father’s cheeks quiver as he speaks, furry brows knitting together.

“Because sword fighting is simply the only thing you’ve mastered!” He didn’t mean to raise his voice but his frustration has reached its peak; his skin was practically crawling.

“What do you have against me, boy? Truly?” The young man heaved in a breath, hands shaking on his lap. 

“I just don’t think it’s fair to be seen as worthless when I have all these passions. I’ve mastered archery, I’ve mastered paints, I’ve mastered dance. Why is that not enough?” His father was silent for a moment. Charming couldn’t read his expression as the elder wiped down his sword, sliding it back in its holster. He turned completely towards the younger with his chin high. 

“I’m a great swordsman,” Charming huffed, rolling his eyes. 

“Fighting displays my integrity, my commitment to one art.” The King leaned forward, face stern.

“I kept going until I craved it. You take one thing and become the best. That’s what I did.” 

Charming knew that wasn’t all he wanted to say. The young prince’s palms itched, skin heating up. He wants his father to say what he truly means. 

To his face. That a _true_ _man_ fights.

“Dance won’t save your life and the practicality of a bow and arrow is null, you know this.” The King averted his eyes as his words became engrossed in silence.

In reality, the young prince didn’t want to hear it at all. 

He felt his anger boil behind his eyes. It was indirect but unmistakable. 

“Sire, dinner will be ready soon…” The scrawny, black-haired man says quietly. The prince saw it in the man’s face:  _ pity _ . Charming’s eyes don’t leave his father as he gets up. 

“I’m a great prince. And I am better with a sword than most the kingdom. I wager my  _ life  _ on it.” His father’s eyes remain vacant as his son bows to him with determination and resentment set in his brow. He turns to the duke who lays a hand on his shoulder, squeezing the tension there, making Charming falter slightly. Once they were out of his father’s hearing the elder turns to the prince slowly. 

“He just wants you to be the best at what he is passionate about, your majesty.” Charming sucks at his teeth and nods, holding his squabbling impulse back. The duke isn’t the one who denounced him so he won’t be the one to take his anger out on. 

“Here,” The dark-haired man handed him a towel and clothes, nudging his chin towards the washroom. The young prince bows gratefully and makes his way towards the bath. 

“Evening your majesty.” His servant Owen greets him as he dunks a thermometer into the bath water. The prince nods as a greeting and begins to peel off his shirt. Owen places soaps and a piece of candy on the side of the tub, leaving to give the boy privacy. A 23-year-old prince is still left candy.

Yet he will eat them.

   Charming sits in the water with pain still prevalent in his brow. He realizes it’s because he hasn’t relaxed his features. He slowly lets himself melt into the water, popping the hard candy in his mouth. The prince fantasized of the day he cuts his father in victory, finally proving he has mastered the very thing held against him. His shoulder stings as he rubs soap over it, noticing small cuts from his father’s sword. He groans, frustrated again. Owen knocks on his door. 

“The food is set and your father is waiting,” Charming yells out a thank you and quickly rinses off and brushes his teeth. 

     He sits down at the long table that only held him and his father. An array of colorful foods set in designated places in front of them. Charming stayed silent but willed his face to relax, involuntarily appearing solemn. 

“I was discussing with the duke,” The young prince looks up towards the dining room’s entrance, the lanky man standing firmly, head bowed down. 

“I truly want to see if you're better than the kingdom.” His ears piped up as he looked towards his father.

“I will hold a competition. The winner wins a sum of money.” The prince tries to conceal his smile by shoveling a forkful of food into his mouth. The King looks at his son carefully, a small grin playing on his lips as well. 

“It’s all for sport, son. But if you win, I will let you be.” The boy nods, eyes gleaming at his father, not concealing his appreciation. 

“But if you lose,” Charming’s smile fades slightly at his words, his back straightening. “You will focus solely on becoming a better swordsman with my help.” The prince was hesitant. The idea of giving up his love for so many things was almost a deal breaker.

_ Almost.  _

He lifted up his arm and gripped his father’s hand. 

“Even after building muscle all day, your grip is still weak.” He jabs, letting his son go. The King laughed and his son chuckled, his comment slightly stinging the young prince. 

| | 

“How did you convince my father of such a thing, Windbag?” The older man, cleaned off his monocle as he escorted the young prince to his quarters. 

“Your father does not like losing,” The prince chuckles leaning his head away from the duke to conceal his laughter.

“I am guessing it is hereditary,” Charming admits. The duke scoffs, slowing down. 

“Sire,” Windbag gripped the boy’s shoulder to get his attention. “You are a great swordsman. It’s unfair to keep you cooped up in here.” The lanky man smiles.

“Being stuck at your father’s hip is my job.” He laughs and opens the door for the prince.

“Pardon my outspokenness but,” Charming grazes his thumb across his own palm, an embarrassed flush crawling onto his cheeks. 

“Ever since my mother’s passing, I don’t feel like I’ve completely lost her.” He took a breath and continued. “With you here, I mean.” The young prince kept his eyes low but when he didn’t get a reply he looked up towards the duke.

The lanky man was bowing to him with his head tilted down. 

“Windbag?” Charming asked. Sparkling droplets fell onto the carpet in pairs until the Duke stood straight, eyes glassy and pooling. 

“You’ll be an exceptional King, Charming.” A stinging feeling burned behind the prince’s eyes as the Grand Duke softly nudges him into his bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. 

| | 

He couldn’t sleep. He slipped his sword from its’ scabbard and sliced through the air, striking childishly in pajama silks. His mind began to slip as he imagined the people he would fight. The few balls his father had held in the castle exposed him to just how many people their kingdom held. Men in their cleanest suits and women in their glamorous gowns. But they all wanted to show their absolute best self. How will they look when they’re fighting for something?

Fighting their future ruler?

A slight moment of panic rose as he realized he may be in danger due to his title. His arm falters for a moment, the heaviness slowly becoming intolerable.

But with new vigor, he holds his arm out to his opponent's chest, wishing that they would try. He would fight harder than he had ever fought before and once a knick was grazed across their skin, he would look to his father, pointing his sword at him. 

Occupied in his mind, he bumped into his supplies of paint. His wielding arm inching down as his eyes gaze across the colors. Sliding the sword back in its holster he picked up a brush, dipping it in red paint. His brush lapped at the blank canvas, exposing what was in his mind. A headless red cloak came into view. One hand clasped a sword loosely and the other held a river of crimson blood, flooding from its palm. 

The young prince stood back from his painting, looking at his own hands. They were covered in red paint and he felt a wash of sickness roll over him. He went to the washroom and scrubbed his hands clean. 

| |

As an array of servants entered his room, forcing Charming to dig his head under his pillow. When a soft hand nudged his shoulder he lifts the pillow slightly, peeking through the sliver he made. 

“Your majesty, we need you to get ready. Many guests will be arriving soon.” The duke smiled softly, pulling the pillow away. A young maid giggles and pulls the prince up, out of bed roughly at the duke’s surprise. She and another tugged him away into his closet, taking out luxurious clothing for him to put on. 

“Aren’t I fighting today?” They looked at each other curiously and returned the clothing, pulling out dark, leather armor. 

One reached out towards him and began unbuttoning his shirt while the other began pulling at his bottoms. 

“Woah, uh, I’m good I can do it.” He was able to shake them off and hastily opened the door, charmingly gesturing a hand for them to leave.

“If this continues, you two will be appointed with permanent kitchen duty.” The Grand Duke stood in the entrance of the closet, hands clasped tightly behind his back. The two girl’s features dropped and they bowed, leaving swiftly. 

“I’m sorry about that, sire.” He came into the closet, looking down at the armor displayed. 

“Are you sure that will be enough? You’ll be safe in these?” Charming laughed heartily, pulling Windbag out so he could get dressed. 

“Such a worrisome man...”  Charming whispered fondly, peeling off his shirt. 

| | 

“Thank you all for coming today. I see many of you have your prestigious swords but I kindly ask you to use the swords provided.” The King sat on his throne, motioning towards his servants, the crowd mumbling. 

“This is meant purely for sport. The rules are simple, the first to be touched will be eliminated, that includes my son.” Murmurs grew in excitement. 

“Please welcome your future ruler, Prince Charming.” There were rowdy whispers amongst the men as the young prince made his way towards his father. The leather of his armor reflecting the light as he pulls out his blade, replacing it with the same sword the kingdom will use against him. Placing his wielding hand up, he swiped downwards, bidding his father a farewell as he made his way down to his opponents.

| | 

_ “Thank you for traveling as far as you did to sign up but it says here that you have been convicted for multiple offenses. I am sorry but you cannot participate.”  The burly man jumps towards Windbag but the guards jump in, tossing him out of the castle walls.  _

_ “I’m sorry my dear but this event is held for men only. We do not want any of our competitors to be disadvantaged, I hope you understand.” A shiny dagger swiped forward, placed right at the dark-haired man’s throat by a pointy-nailed woman.  _

_ Tossed. _

_ “You’ve had multiple accounts of felonies and sexual assault amongst the kingdom so I will have to ask you to leave.”  _

_ Tossed but Windbag was given a kick to the scrotum as a parting gift. _

_      Windbag’s eyes were hooded as his patience dwindled. 700 people, he had interviewed that night while only 175 had passed. As the last person left, he got up from his chair and walked (limped) towards the radio, classical music chiming through the empty hall as Charming slept soundly in his grand room.  _

| | 

     The room parted as one man stood in the center, hand firm on his blade. 

“You will be the first person besides my father I will have fought. It’s an honor for me.” The young prince bows. 

“Likewise for me, my lord.” The other man bows as well. 

     The prince looks up, eyes becoming sharp. The tension and adrenaline vibrating within his skin bubbled to life. They held their swords up and swiped in a final greeting.

_ “Nothing above the neck. There will be medics on sight but deep wounds will be heavily counted towards possible elimination.”   _ The Duke’s rules lingered in the air. 

He felt eyes all around him as they slid their swords out, directed towards each other. 

“Don’t be stupid, boy.” The Duke held two fingers to his lips, muttering his words as he watched. 

Charming’s body twitches when he sees the man’s arm pull back slightly. They inch slowly around the circle as Charming leans, sword baiting the other man to strike. A long glance at Charming’s side alerted him the man was going to pounce. Charming’s sword clashes with the other’s as he swings his blade around himself, bringing it down to his opponent’s shoulder. 

A prickling splatter of blood dripped onto the ground and the prince backed away, his sword’s point facing the floor. There were claps and his opponent bowed, grimacing at the burn of a fresh wound. 

A man (obviously only bestowed recently of that title) jumped eagerly into the circle, replacing the man prior in an instant. His eyes were wide and wild. He bounced slightly on the balls of his feet as he pointed his sword at the ceiling, swiping down speedily. The prince greeted him back and took his stance, cautious.  

“He almost didn’t let me in.” The boy spoke, gesturing at the duke with his sword. His movements and words coming out fast, startling Charming to take a step back. 

“He said I was too young,” The crazed runt let out in a frenzy, swiping through the air to slice at Charming. The prince countered just barley, attempting to strike as well but was quickly dodged. 

“I’m pretty small but you look absolutely pathetic. And you’re supposed to be our King one day?” With that comment, Charming swiped his foot under the boy making him fall, placing the tip of his sword against the boy’s chest and slicing. The boy flinched but it was no deeper than a paper cut. 

The other men around him murmured in confusion, trying to deem what Charming did as acceptable or not. Charming reached out a hand to the wide-eyed boy and bowed. The kid’s eyebrows knitted together in objection as he was ushered out of the circle. The air felt different, as though rules have been bent because of his little trick.

A man with white hair and lashes entered the circle. A greeting and Charming was eager to strike, burning with the rush of winning twice. Their swords clashed and as the white-haired man struck, Charming tossed the man’s blade from his hand harshly. Once it clatters to the floor, the prince took the chance to slice across his opponent’s wrist.

| | 

Charming kept going, kept tearing different sized gashes upon his future people’s skin. Some were far too easy to go against but some made Charming nervous, afraid of slipping up.

He had to have gone through more than over half his opponents when a break was announced. The prince was gleaming with sweat and victory, but he didn’t look towards his father as he left to the washroom. 

He peeled off the leather and submerged himself in cool water, eating fruits out of a bowl that was placed right next to the tub. He scrubbed hurriedly, a bit of sheepish intent playing on his lips. He was delighted. Charming was out of the room and in different armor in record time. He clasped his hands together in a joyous greeting toward the duke. The dark-haired man smiled, ushering him to sit down. He didn’t want to but he did for his friend. His leg jumped up and down as he beamed up at the elder. Windbag pulls a chair in front of the young prince, sitting.

“You’re halfway done, but be careful, okay? I know it’s exciting-”

“You have no idea Windbag. I feel electrifying. If I were to slaughter a beast or even go against my father-” 

“Charming, still remain smart. You’ve done so well.” Windbag said, concern slowly crawling back onto his face. 

The prince huffed out a fond, airy chuckle. Getting up, he kissed the side of the elder’s head, walking out the door that concealed all the others.

| |

The audience had become astonishingly smaller, many having gone home as night broke. The two men that remained’s energies were on edge, burning as one. There was a point where Charming’s arm ached but once it passed, he became invincible with his blade. It reached out towards the flesh of his opponents as though it were his own limbs. 

One of the two men were a bit on the older side but far from frail. The other was a man who’s bottom half of his face was covered in a black cloth. The elder bowed and greeted him. Charming’s smug smirk never left, insincere greeting and eagerness were visible as he came closer and closer to proving himself. 

The man struck, drawing out pained groans from Charming’s abused sword, warm from overuse and endless disinfecting. The elder was slow but skilled, properly fighting against Charming. The prince changes his center of gravity and slides to his knee swiftly, slicing at the man’s thigh. His opponent dropped his sword, falling towards the ground to grip at his wound, the prince accidentally cut too deep. Charming saw the monstrous amount of blood joining the dusty drying liquid on the ground from the others. He threw his sword to the side and kneeled down to the man. The wound was substantial, medics running towards them. The prince’s eyes bled with remorse but he couldn’t find his voice to apologize. The old man smiled in pain, touching the prince’s bloodied hand. 

“It was an honor to fight with you, sire.” He was taken away and Charming’s trousers began to soak up the blood on the floor. Windbag rushes over with a cloth, wiping at the young prince’s hands. 

“There is one more but we can call it a day.” The duke whispered out, worry in his voice.

Charming didn’t reply and instead grabbed a new sword, twirling it around in his grip effortlessly as he shook out his limbs. He felt off centered but he went to stand in front of the last man. Worry began to disturb his foregoing emotions. The man stood tall, sturdy as the young prince approached, a bit uncertain in his own movements. 

“Best not cut me as you did the old man,” The man spoke as he greeted the prince with his sword. 

“Or I’ll cut you much deeper.” Charming had a lot of people belittle him today but he was usually able to drown them out with the sound of his erratic pulse. But this time the words were being said by a distractingly appealing man who tugged at something ugly in him, something entirely new. 

“I was watching you very carefully, my lord.” The male’s sword taps teasingly against the prince’s before striking in a completely different angle. Charming almost didn’t counter him.  _ Almost. _

“Some touchy subjects, I believe?” The others he fought with remained further away, trying to bait him to come closer but with him, it was the opposite. He took strides forward, making the young prince back away. Charming got startled at the dusty-haired man’s fearlessness.  

“I’m not the one you want to be fighting.”  _ Clank.  _ “Please stop talking.” Charming finally spoke up, eyes widening as the male pushed at his sword with a strength way beyond his own. They struggle against one another as the man presses Charming’s own blade uncomfortably close to the young prince’s throat. 

“HEY NOTHING ABOVE THE-” Charming’s attention moves to a yelling Windbag, the other man releasing the pressure and swiping his sword downwards, slicing into the prince’s stomach. Charming groaned in pain, gasping as he stared at the man’s eyes, the only part of his face exposed to him. Carnal eyes cornered Charming as they caressed their way down the prince’s physique, wound forgotten. 

“My lord, I have won.” The male’s haunting voice warmed up the prince’s face. 

His opponent turned to the King and once he looked away, Charming was able to breathe. 

The  _ King. _

Anger towards his opponent grew as he snapped his head to his father who sat with his chin propped up in a hand, the duke biting at his lips by his side. The King stood up, shaking the man’s hand. 

“Congratulations. Please, join us for a meal before you leave.” Charming’s stomach aches, dread seeping in at the realization of how much he now has to give up. 

“That is very generous my lord but I have to take my leave. Please, keep the reward. I did this for sport, as you said.” The prince was startled, a moment later he got checked by one of the on foot royal medics, his eyes never leaving the stranger. 

The man bowed to the prince’s father, sparing him an indistinguishable, heated look as he left. Charming sucked at his bottom lip, warmth building up inside him. The large door closed behind the stranger, echoing through the now empty hall. Charming’s pupils were three times larger when the duke got his attention. Windbag took a step back, startled at the prince’s appearance. 

“Are you alright, sire?” As though a switch was flipped, the prince blinked, pupils shrinking and breathing returning to normal. 

“Yes, why?” The medic pulled his shirt down over the bandages. 

The duke looked towards the door and the young prince. Awareness seeped into Windbag’s features, the slightest bit of shock demanding for attention in his eyes. The prince looked to him with confusion which quickly changed to guilt. 

“You did this all for me and I couldn’t stick it out against one more person, I’m sorry.” The duke was confused but quickly realized what the boy was talking about. He shook his head and placed an arm around the boy, standing him up. 

“Let us go talk to your father.”

| | 

A maid in the castle he had befriended asked if there were anything special he would like to come with his dinner and promptly swept him away for a moment. Once he returned, the young prince could feel a shift in the air. The duke sat at the table and his father held a sickened expression. Cautious the prince sat, smiling softly at his father in greeting. 

“I know our arrangement, father, but I do believe I did exceptionally well against the kingdom. I tried to remain engaging and charismatic whilst dueling. I fought really hard…” The prince trailed on. 

“But I understand an agreement had been made and I had unfortunately failed.” He picks up a fork and prods at his food before taking in a serving.

His father holds his pointer finger across his lips with unsettling thought. Charming didn’t recognize his father at the moment. He never really had a reason to quarrel with him so to have an air of disappointment surrounding his father is unbearable. It was uncomfortable to have his questions unanswered. They were left to brew in his stomach and rip away his appetite, even after all the strain put on his body today.

“You,” His father hadn’t touched his food, staring at his son. “You did very well Charming. I’m surprised and actually very impressed.” Charming’s chest felt lighter, a slow relieved breath flows from him. 

“I just don’t understand one thing,” The prince saw Windbag sit straighter, finally picking up a fork.

“Why did you lose?” 

Charming’s stomach folded, and sick feeling, as though he got caught doing something terrible, sunk in. 

“I wasn’t better than him, I suppose. He had won.” As Charming spoke a musty feeling soaked behind his eyes. He had to cough to make it fade away. 

“Was it the way he approached you?”

      The prince’s heart dropped like ice, face paling.

“The way he looked at you? How he held himself against you?” Charming held back the bubbling bile rising in his throat, burning tears threatening to drip out.

     He looked towards the man he thought protected him. Windbag had his arms wrapped around himself, the slightest tremble emitting from his form, he didn’t look towards the prince. 

“I just couldn’t… I couldn’t beat him, father.” Tension gripped tightly at Charming’s core as he spoke. He felt disgusting, belittled, unloved,  _ unholy _ in the eyes of his father. He never knew the feelings he had or how he felt in general but this cemented it. He didn’t fit the image his father had hoped for and it shows now. It was ugly and Charming feared it. 

A rattling inhale came from the King and he sat up, reaching for his meal. He glanced at Windbag’s trembling figure and tipped his wine glass to his son. 

“Eat, you used a lot of energy today.” The prince was numb but ate the meal that was prepared for him with a limp tongue. 

| | 

The maids were clearing up when the young prince began to gain his words back, willing himself to ask a question. 

“Will I have to continue with sword training?” Charming’s pale features wilted further as he spoke, making Windbag’s heartache. 

“Why would our arrangement be revoked?” Like being sliced once more in the stomach. The prince stammered, disbelief rushing out in short breaths. 

“I beat almost everyone. I showed you I am able to defeat our kingdom-” 

“But a deal is a deal.” The prince stood up, slamming his fists into the table. The servants stopped, staring at him.

“Our people’s  _ blood  _ is in your castle because of me and you still don’t have a single drop of faith!” Windbag flinched, pushing his chair back to get up. 

“Charming-” The duke said slowly, walking toward his side of the table. 

  
“You’re the only one who gives a damn about me. Please, just go. I don’t want to hurt you.” The dark-haired man lowered his reaching hands, looking at the prince. The servants began to gather up the rest of what remained. Without a word, the duke brushed past the prince, leaving the room. Charming caught a glimpse of him taking off his monocle and wiping at his eyes roughly before the door closed behind him. 

The prince turned to his father, emotions relentless.

“I’ve known this for a while now, Charming,” The King stood up to level with his son. 

“Your emotions get the better of you. You take everything to heart and it shows.” His father gripped his hands behind his back, chin tilting upwards. 

“Become a man, and I will see you as worthy.” As though a bomb exploded Charming armed his sword, slipping is snugly right up against his father’s throat. 

Charming’s body clenched, holding back tears of frustration and resentment. 

“You’re making me into something I hate.” He spat, tears streaming down his face. He threw his sword onto the table, startling the last few maids in the room. He left without a shred of remorse. 

| |

He stormed into his bedroom and locked it, beating his fist against the wall, lungs ripping at the air for purchase. He grabbed a cloak from his closet and rushed out of his room. 

| | 

Outside of the castle walls, the chilled air cooled the boy’s skin. He felt so many emotions, in such a way that he seemed like a child who couldn’t handle heartbreak. The doors close behind him as though he had stuck his head underwater, only living creatures of the night to be heard. His face felt heavy and plum-like as he sat down on the platform before the grand steps. He sniffed and wrapped his cloak tighter around himself. He jumps when he hears music begin to play from inside. 

He had known Windbag listened to music after night broke but he hadn’t imagined him listening to something so somber. 

He closes his eyes, getting lost in the music. His heart feels heavy as he curls in on himself. The music reminded him of his mother; he yearned for her presence right now. Charming leaned towards the music that hid behind the doors, an appreciative love growing for the caring, lanky man. 

His mind drifted to everything that had happened, to the man he lost to. The tears slowed as his heart eased, a warm feeling cradling his chest. The song had slowed to an end, being replaced by another. A sweet pitch of a violin weeping happily makes his breath catch, his leg bounces, wanting to rise up and move with the beat. Charming hears something besides the music but ignores it. Once it happens again he sees a figure only 4 steps down from where he sat. Scrambling back, the prince rushes up to his feet, mouth turning to call the guards, music climbing in intensity. 

“ _ Shh _ shh, it’s okay. I just want to talk, I’m not here to hurt you.” Charming heaves, trying to squint in the dark but recognizes the voice. The music had calmed, playing him like an instrument as his body relaxed.

“What did you need?” The prince slowly returned to where he sat, back straight and alert. His heart jumped in his chest as he got closer, realizing the man wasn’t wearing a mask anymore. Even in the dark, he could see the other man smiling, realizing the prince had noticed. 

“I just wanted to know if you were alright.” Charming twisted his fingers in the cloth of his cloak, looking down. 

“Well, my father and I wagered on our little competition,” He bit his tongue after remembering he knew nothing of this man. He could see the other man’s demeanor shift, guilt? 

“What did you wager?” His alluring voice made Charming ache to confess every sin of his in detail just to hear him speak again. 

Just  _ almost _ .

“I’m sorry, who are you exactly?” The prince stopped himself from continuing. He doesn’t even know this man but he felt comfortable to discuss as much as he did with the stranger. 

“My apologies, my lord. My name is Phillip.” The silhouette of the man’s mouth shifted as his tongue peeked out to wet his lips, Charming swallowing. 

“Well, Phillip, I have been practicing sword fighting for a number of years with my father.” 

“I’ve heard that your father is quite the swordsman, no wonder you’ve done so well.” Charming’s face heated up but immediately drained as he heard the door creak open. 

Abruptly Phillip rushed up the few steps to Charming and gripped him, pulling him to the far left side of the door. The prince objected but he was pulled into the other man’s body, hand covering his mouth. The prince tried to pry it off but Phillip was still stronger than him. One of his guards walked down the grand steps, following the path that led to the parameter of the castle grounds. Once he was far enough, Phillip let go. 

“What was that for? Why didn’t you want him to see us?” Charming whispered out, stepping back from the other man. 

“Because it’s fun.” Charming’s stomach fluttered. 

“Why don’t we take a walk and continue talking?” It is absurd. It is dangerous and childish and not something a king should do. But like hell, he wouldn’t say yes. They crept down the stairs slowly. Why was their staircase so long and how did he not notice Phillip walk up all of them before spotting him mere feet away? 

[ https://youtu.be/zA71PRwkaaA ](https://youtu.be/zA71PRwkaaA)

As they got to the bottom Phillip spotted a few torches heading their way. With a soft hand, the dusty-haired man wrapped his fingers around the prince’s wrist, pulling him into a run until they were past the gate and deep within the woods. It was all his father’s property but the castle looked so different from outside so distant. 

“This is far enough, isn’t it?” Phillip heard the hesitation in Charming’s voice, his grip on the prince’s hand loosening to almost a phantom grip. 

“Are you okay?” They stopped, torches passing were they entered the forest, completely oblivious to the two of them. Charming sighed. 

“I just,” His eyes didn’t leave the castle.

“I’ve never been this far, actually.” He felt foolish to say it. He should feel unsafe, but he doesn’t. He must look so childish, young face helpless and alone. Phillip’s eyes washed over him, making the prince’s cheeks flame up. Charming couldn’t understand how the other man remained so undaunted. 

“Hey, we can head back whenever you’d like, it’s alright.” It was comforting, the we part. That Phillip wouldn’t leave him if they did return. His words were soft, it made the young prince never want to go back. He sighed and shook his head. 

“Either way, you’re completely safe.” He whispered. A moment of awe struck Charming as he realizes Phillip is right. The guards were there to keep him safe and weren’t there to hurt him. Neither was Phillip. At least that is how Charming felt about the man. The prince had always been alone, but he never felt something quite like the emotions he had around the other man. He trusted him. 

Phillip’s eyes widened, as though just remembering,

“How is your stomach?” They stopped walking, turning his attention entirely on Charming.

“Oh, it’s fine. Thank you.” He stuttered, 

“Not for cutting me but for, uh, for asking. Thank you for asking.” Phillip chuckles softly, squeezing the hand Charming forgot they were still holding. They walked a bit deeper, the prince looking over his shoulder as they got further and further. There were slight sounds of sleeping horses parallel from them.

“May I know what your wager was?” Charming’s cheeks flushed slightly, embarrassed to have completely forgotten. 

“It was nothing really. I was just sick of never winning against my father. I tend to bounce from one hobby to another, but he wanted me to fight.” They reached a point in the woods where the grass laid flat, vacant of most trees. A dead fire pit stood near the center. Had the man camped here? 

“Said dancing and archery won't keep me safe. That I needed to know how to fight to be a man.” Charming’s voice trailed off, he looked to the dark sky, heart chilling slightly even in the presence of someone who spreads warmth through his body. 

“You dance, huh?” Startled, Charming snapped his head to the smiling man.

“Yes, I do. It’s lots of fun actually.” He chuckles. 

“I should have known you danced from the way you fight.” Like a stone in his gut. 

“What do you mean?” 

The man laid his cloak on the ground, laying on top of it. 

“I mean, you moved like a dancer. You kinda just,” He swished his arm as though he held his sword, swiping it in a flowy manner around in a circle towards the sky. 

“I don’t know if I should take offense to that.” The prince laughed, laying his own cloak down and sitting upon it. 

“Please don’t, sire. I just meant it in good fun.” His voice lowered, the cockiness still present.

“Where do you come from Phillip? You seem to know these woods, do you live in the village across from us here?” Charming turns towards Phillip curiously, glancing down at him. The prince looked over the other man, he had changed his armor to another but color was hard to see in such darkness. 

Phillip shifted slightly, bringing a knee up. 

“I’m not from around here actually. A bit further North. But I heard of the competition and I was curious to see what the future King of Naples looks like.” Charming bites his lip as the other man sits up, turning towards him. 

“News had gotten around fast, but curiosity and sport mustn’t have been the only thing that brought you here.” The prince pushed at the other man’s shoulder, a tremulous smile slowly climbed Phillip’s lips. He shrugged, arms coming up to pillow his head comfortably as he stared back at Charming. 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Charming shifted, curiosity burning.

“Please share, I believe you.” Phillip shook his head bashfully, avoiding the prince’s eyes.

“I haven’t even shared and you already believe me?” He questioned, only to meet large pleading eyes staring back at him. For a moment he had forgotten how to form words but continued. 

“I had lost my horse.” Charming covered his mouth with a hand, both to cover up his laughter and hide the flush blooming on his face at how endearing the sentiment was said. 

“I come from a nearby kingdom but as night broke I woke up without the sound of snores. Samson had vanished and I came into your kingdom to find him.” 

“Samson?” Charming removed his hand, wreathed in smiles. 

“Quite regal of a name, isn’t it?” Phillip says, wiping his face in embarrassment before returning it behind his head. Charming nodded, broad smile pleasantly sitting upon his face. 

“To be quite honest with you, I was startled at how uncanny your father looked to mine.” Charming’s eyes widened with disbelief. 

“Really? I hope his mannerism is better than my father’s.” 

“Not by much actually.” They laughed softly. 

“Enough of me,” Charming’s smile faded slightly, nervousness bubbling in his stomach. 

“What’s a prince doing on the steps of his castle all alone at night?” Charming looked to his cloak below him, absentmindedly nudging his leg toward the other’s warmth. 

“Waiting for a strong man to pull me into his arms and take me away, obviously. I thought I made it apparent with the tears running down my face.” The other man moved his head away from Charming, laughing heartily. 

“Strong, huh? Is that why I won and ruined your relationship with your father?” His voice dripped, pulling the prince in like a magnet.

“You really did put a damper on my life, haven’t you? I did everything I could to please my father and here you come, waltzing in and taking that away.” Charming’s eyes hooded as he bit at the other man with his words childishly. 

“How rude of me...” Phillip sits up, body close to the prince’s. Charming shifted bashfully but didn’t back away, the man’s gaze pinning him in place. 

“You know, dinner was a disaster. I doubt you can imagine it.” Phillip hums, placing a light hand on the prince’s chest, pushing him down. Charming lays back, pliant in his hands. 

“It’s funny, father seems to think you were trying something with me and that’s why I lost.” The prince looked up towards the other man, eyes straining in the dark. Charming’s voice trailed into breathlessness as Phillip leaned downwards, the warmth of his lips so close, the prince wanted a taste.  

“ _ Was _ that the reason?” Phillip pulls away to ask. Charming’s breath returns along with frustration. 

“I don’t know, you tell me.  _ Were you _ trying something?” Phillip laughed airly, leaning back down over him. Charming anticipated finally feeling pillowy warmth against his own lips but instead the man whispered in the prince’s ear,

“Maybe a little,” He lifted his hand up to the prince’s chest, inching down, hand feeling large and  _ right  _ as he got lower. As Phillip reached his stomach Charming groaned, soft pain seeping from the wound he had completely forgotten. Phillip’s breath stalled as he trailed light fingers over the bandage in apology. 

“Why else would I be so eager to be on top of you, your highness?” A shiver trailed down the prince’s body, he took in a sharp breath.

“Dinner,”  _ swallow. _ “Dinner had been completely ruined because of you.” Phillip hummed, pressing his lips under the prince’s ear, a soft pecking noise sounded, loud in the quiet forest. Many kisses followed, trailing down his neck and Adam's apple. His lips were jealous but Charming’s eyes fluttered at the feeling. His dark lashes beats lightly against his cheeks at the same peculiar pace as his heart.

“Maybe I should have stayed for dinner, watch what my winnings had done.” Charming lifted his chest into the other man’s sensual hand. Phillip brings his leg over the prince to hover over him properly, raking his teasing slow fingers under the hem of Charming’s armor. Phillip’s mouth parted slightly as a purr-like whimper falls from the prince’s lips. 

“But I thoroughly enjoyed watching you shudder after seeing only my eyes.” Charming was panting, pupil’s dilating further. He felt deranged.

“You know, I kinda couldn’t stand you at first.” The prince looked at him with shock.

“Your smugness toward those you beat,” Phillip shook his head disapprovingly. 

“But now I understand, it’s because you were happy you proved yourself to your father.” The prince remained silent, Phillip’s thumb reaching up to trail over his lips. 

“I just wanted to ravish that snobbish look on your face.” Charming’s brows knitted, his lips parting further. 

“To lie and sard you. Make you forget how to breathe correctly through those pretty lips,” Charming mewls softly at his words. Hips finally pressing against the prince’s, heaviness gratifying, ripping a harsh groan from Charming. The dark-haired prince reaches up to grip at the chains on the other man’s chest.

“Have you ever lied with another man?” The question sat in the air, almost forgotten as Phillip rubbed down against the prince harder. Charming whimpers, gripping tightly at the other man’s biceps.

“Another man?” The young prince heaved, pushing up into Phillip. 

“Have I ever experienced anything at all should really be the question.” There was a stutter in the other man’s pace, disbelief on his face. 

“That isn’t true. No one had taken your danseur’s body for pleasure?” He trailed his hands up and down the curve of the prince’s hips and gripped at the dip of his waist before leaning down. He caressed him as their breathes mingled until Phillip moved a wandering hand to the prince’s front, cupping and gripping him tightly. Charming’s mouth falls open with a soft gasp, his eyes wide and pleading. Phillip grinned against his lips, sucking at the prince’s bottom before moving his tongue into the dark-haired male’s mouth. Moans from the prince slipped into Phillip’s mouth and he lapped it up, tugging at him through his bottoms. 

Charming thought of the women who had tried undressing him in his closet and all he felt was revulsion, but now he lifted himself up into the pressure around him. Wanting to be forced to undress and be bare. He had always been so unsure of what he wanted but nothing had ever felt so good. Charming moved from the other man’s mouth, head twisting to the side as he trembled, grinding his hips up into the stroking hand,  _ faster _ . With a final squeeze, Phillip lets go, the prince snaps his eyes open to stare, plead, at the man. 

“You were going to come,” Phillip smirked fondly but Charming’s expression remained vacant.

“Do you know what that is?” The amused look Phillip wore before had vanished, sincere astonishment glistening in his alluring gaze. 

“No…” The prince whispered, trying to get up to his knees, making Phillip move away and sit back on his bottom. 

“Why did it mean for you to stop?” Charming’s words make Phillip groan, shaking his head. 

“A young prince so innocent. Is it right of me to do these things with you if you don’t entirely know what they are?” He spoke quietly. With barley a sound the prince moves forward, planting himself on Phillip’s lap. He pushed at the man with his hips making Phillip’s breath catch. 

“I want you,” Phillip shivers.

“I want you to show and teach me.” Charming grips Phillip’s head, bringing his lips closer to the other man’s as he sways harshly against him.

“I’m not young and foolish,” He leans forward, trailing his tongue along the shell of his ear. 

“I have desires and urges,” Phillip closes his eyes, trying to remain steady as the young prince moves impressively on his lap. 

“What I do know is, I don’t want to leave here knowing my own name.” With that utterance Phillip gripped his hips, pulling at his belt as their lips touched. Warm, wet,  _ pillow  _ soft. Greedy their tongues lapped, concealed from the outside world, just like them in this vast forest. The prince’s trousers were pulled off and he began peeling off his armor, his bandages’ white color reflecting the moonlight that had made its way above them. He was left in his undergarments but the last thing he felt was embarrassment. Phillip, burned holes into him and all he could feel was  _ hotness _ all over. The moonlight made it easier to see, the prince’s fingers quickly pushing off his armor, chains soon to follow. Charming’s lips glistened, tempting Phillip to lean forward and taste, sidetracking the prince who had began pulling at his trousers. 

“You’re-” Phillip tucked his hands under the man sitting on his lap, lifting him up and laying him down on their cloaks. 

“Distracting.” Charming puffed out, a crazed look glazing over his eyes as a now bare chest man lays between his nearly bare open legs. Lest not forget the man’s strong arms and how he effortlessly placed him  _ exactly _ where he wanted him.

“If I keep my hands off you for even a moment, I feel as though you’ll vanish.” Phillip breathed out hotly as he leaned down to pull Charming’s lip between his own. He rubbed his hand up the prince’s hip as they kissed, fingers rubbing over his perked nubs. Charming lifts his hips up and groans into Phillip’s mouth. Right as the prince reaches for Phillip’s trousers a rustling makes them pull apart.

Quickly Phillip pulled Charming up, grabbing a cloak and covering him as they looked towards the noise. The rustling grew louder and Phillip picked up his discarded sword, arm still wrapped snugly around Charming. 

“By the blood of Christ, Samson.” Charming, clothed only in his pants and cloak breathed a sigh of relief at the white horse he saw breach the follery with noisy puffs. Phillip left him to greet the creature happily, dropping his sword on the grass. Samson neighs softly at his owner’s touch. 

Charming wrapped Phillip’s red cloak tighter and approached the large animal, but stopped, stomach sinking with sickness.

He looked at the familiar bit and collar of the horse. Only those who were owned by royalty were draped in such a thing. He looked to the embroideries on Phillip’s cloak that surrounded him. The patches of a kingdom. 

“You’re,” Phillip turned, smile still on his face from reuniting with his friend. 

“You’re King Hubert’s son.” The brown-haired man paled, sickness striking his face. 

“You’re a prince.” Phillip’s body went ridgid.

“Nobel a name is Samson indeed. He’s a royal horse.” Charming huffed with disbelief, wrapping the cloak tighter around himself; feeling exposed all of a sudden. 

“Charming,” He spoke softly, hands open towards the prince as though he were a frightened animal.

“Please, forgive me. I wished to know you and your heart, as well as you’d come to know mine.” They looked ridiculous. One practically bare as the other stands by a tall beast, chest exposed for all to see. 

“I beg, at least meet him.” It took a bit to get Charming’s legs moving again, standoffish frame unsteady as he approached the horse. He reached out a hand and offered it to Samson to smell. He puffed through his nose and tilted his head into the prince’s soft palm.

Charming moves his hand back under the cloak.

“I thought I lost you.” Phillip smiles and cups the horse’s face, touching Samson’s head with his own. Warmth spread through Charming’s chest as he watches them. When Phillip opens his eyes, Charming sees the slight gleam of unshed tears as he patted the horse, grabbing its rein. Soft gallops followed behind the other prince as he tied his horse securely to a tree. Turning back to Charming he avoided his eyes. 

“Would you like me to take you back?” The reluctance in his voice was louder than his actual words but he began searching for where his shirt went. 

“A prince laying with another prince. Absurd, isn’t it?” Phillip straightens up and shakes his head, thumbs hooking into the waistband of his trousers as he approaches the other prince. 

“I really don’t see the absurdity. Is it different to lie with a citizen? A beggar? Does it truly change anything?” Charming swallowed as the man came closer. 

“Politics,” The dark-haired prince uttered pitifully. 

“I’ll be impartial and biased if we were ever to come to a disagreement,” Phillip hummed, nodding. 

“But isn’t that the same as being bonded to one another?” Charming’s throat freezes.  _ Bonded. _ The dark-haired prince took a needed breath, Phillip’s hands coming up to grip his hips. 

“I had left my kingdom for a reason. My mind wasn’t in the right place and I had found you.” He tilts his head looking over Charming, mind elsewhere. 

“I was actually quite fond of calling you my prince. It makes all the “yes sire”’s and the “no my lord”’s appear as bygones. I felt raw, weirdly privileged to even be glanced at by royalty.” Samson nickers lowly, following by a soft adjustment of hooves. 

Charming bites his lip. A royal not wanting to be referred to as such? It was both alarming and stirred something in him. It was a dangerous feeling. But the thought of returning back so soon did not sound at all appealing. In actuality it made him want to shrivel up. His fingers itched to return to the other prince’s body. Phillip hadn’t changed but something in Charming did. Never had a prince in history been said to have lied with another prince. He felt the same rush as he had when leaving the castle. The other prince stayed quiet, merely a step in front of him. He didn’t want to return home.

“I said I didn’t want to leave here knowing my own name.” Phillip’s eyes widened as the cloak around Charming’s body slipped to the ground. The dusty-haired prince looked at Charming’s face for any sign of second thought and raised his hands slightly. Phillip lifted his chin with a smirk,

“Undress me your majesty.” 

| | 

If you step out into a forest it’s quiet in its own way. Noises in the background never truly leaving long enough for your mind to create fake sounds to stimulate you. So when actual noises escape through the shrubbery, there is something real in the forest. 

The rough sound of fabric against the grass is loud, cushiony softness lightly holding up the dark prince’s legs until  Phillip takes over the job. He pushes Charming’s thighs up rougher and his tongue delves deeper inside of him. The prince tries pulling away from the wetness once more. Phillip grips his hips and pulls him down, tongue pushing at his virgin walls. Charming slaps a hand down to the hands pulling him down and tries to wrangle his way away from the onslaught of pleasure. His toes curl, thighs shaking against Phillip’s forearms as he clenches his eyes shut. The prince clenches his teeth and attempts to squeeze his legs together but Phillip’s arms push them even wider around his head. Thrusting his tongue faster, Charming cries out wettly, cock weeping on his stomach. 

“En-ough!” The prince yells out, Phillip lets him go. Charming moves a hand to his mouth as he heaves, throat whistling as his abdomen quivers. 

“Are you alright?” Phillip comes to his side, giving him enough space to breath. Still with closed eyes and a heaving chest, Charming points to himself weakly. 

“Virgin.” Phillip wipes at his chin with a loud laugh, licking at his lips. He leans down to the dark prince’s neck, sucking skin into his mouth and running his teeth over it.

“Can you…” Charming’s breathing steadies as he focuses on the moving lips on him. 

“Just a little…?” The young prince reaches down, lightly placing the tip to the rim of his wet opening. Phillip’s cock jumps in the prince’s hand. He looks down at prince. 

“Just a little?” Phillip’s low voice sounds disbelieving. 

Without an answer, Charming pushes him in quickly, past the tight ring of muscles with a pained whimper. Just as quickly but carefully, Phillip pulls out with a wild expression. 

“Are you crazy? Careful.” He spoke to the eager prince, eyes wide. Charming licked his lips and pushed his hips up into the other prince’s. 

“I’m sorry,” He snagged Phillip’s cock on his rim, circling his hips teasingly before slowly pulling him in. Charming breathed out, opening his legs wider as Phillip moved slowly into him. Once the tip got in, Charming put a hand to Phillip’s chest, stopping him from going forward. He fluttered around the other prince’s cock for a bit, Phillip’s arm shaking next to Charming’s head. With a shallow breath he trailed his other hand down Charming’s chest until he reached his stomach, rubbing lower at his abdomen before easing a bit further in once he felt him relax a bit. Chanting his hips slightly up, Charming got Phillip in a bit deeper. 

“Easy…” Charming opened his eyes, narrowing mischievously at the other prince. Innocently, he brought a leg up to wrap it around Phillip’s hip, then brought the other one. Half way in, Charming softly wrapped his arms around the light prince’s shoulders, bringing him lower to kiss him and accidently making him move deeper. Phillip tried to move back a bit to slow the pace but Charming dug his feet into his hips, making him push all the way in. Charming’s body clenched as he let out a loud moan, a smile on his face startling the living shit out of Phillip. 

“You’re the craziest,” Charming rolled his hips up and down on Phillip’s cock. 

“virgin alive. Do you not care about the pain that  _ will _ come later?” With a frustrated groan Charming pushed at the other man’s chest until he rolled onto his back, missing the cloak and forced to lie on the bare grass. 

Charming folded his hands daintily on Phillip’s abs as he rolled his hips harshly, impaling himself over and over again onto the thickness inside him. His eyes clenched shut as his head fell forward, moans ripping from him because of his brutal pace. 

“I’ve,”  _ tremble. _

“I’ve felt the ache of riding a horse’s saddle for weeks on end,” Phillip wipes his hands down Charming’s bouncing thighs. 

“I can handle you.” Phillip panted, amazed. 

Charming bounced achingly good on him. A wild smile grew on Phillip’s lips as the young prince clenched, staring red faced back at him. 

“You sure, my lord?” Charming gulped, thighs beginning to ache, but he nodded. With the strength he had felt many times today, he pulled out quickly, making Charming whimper, before being turned over and plunged back into. The cloak under Charming’s stomach bunched up as his knees dig into the dirt below him. The slight pain he had felt from his stomach wound was gone in an instant as the light prince plowed into his hole brutally. Charming lift up his hips and kept them there as Phillip’s heavy balls beat against him, making him clench tighter around the other prince. 

Phillip growled in his ear, pushing his thighs further apart as he thrusted faster. Charming grips the cloak under him, pulling it towards his face and lets out his screams into the bunched up fabric. Barbaric thrusts continue to rearrange his inside but with soft hands Phillip intertwines his with Charming’s, leading them to stretch out in front of him. 

“I want to hear you.” Charming’s entire body shook as his sobbing moans filled the forest. Tears begin to spill because of the intense emotions he felt. A soft kiss was placed in between his shoulder blades, skin on fire. The rawness of his thrust dragging him rougher inside the prince as the wetness from his mouth went away. But as Phillip drew closer and closer, his precum made the slide smoother. Charming pushes up faster, fucking himself up into the other prince. If father had seen him now…

Charming’s stomach began to object but Phillip pulled him up by his middle until his back became flush to the other prince’s chest. Phillip was nestled right against his insides as he rocked in and out shallowly. Charming took his own fingers to his lips as he hummed greedily into them, whimpering as Phillip grazes a certain part inside of him. He pushed at that spot inside him over and over again, his member leaking onto his clasped thighs on top of the other prince’s own. 

“Have you been taken cared of my lord?” Despite being so close, Phillip managed to keep his voice sluttery. Charming nodded, stars beginning to obscure his vision as it became harder to breath. His body tightened up around Phillip as he began to mewl. The prince attempts to rise up off his cock, body tipping over the edge and spilling. Phillip ground into that spot inside of Charming, keeping him firmly planted as the prince began to convulse around him, arousal spilling thickly from his cock onto the grass below them. Phillip slowed down and angled away from his abused prostate but continued fucking up into the slacking heat around him. 

“Not a virgin anymore.” Charming heaved, laughing aimlessly as his body became boneless. Phillip nuzzled his face into the prince’s neck, his stiffness sheathed entirely in Charming. Phillip’s body tensed, scrotum drawing up tightly where their bodies met before spilling inside of the prince. Charming’s cock twitched as Phillip emptied inside of him. A mouth full of skin muffled Phillip’s groans as his cock jolted inside of him, finishing the last bit of what was left. 

Phillip removed his mouth wettly, taking in a few breathes as he trailed soft hands down Charming’s body, rubbing softly at his stomach before cupping his hand between his taunt thighs. He spread them softly and began pulling out. 

| | 

The forest is different in the morning, more comforting but less inviting. Charming knew that when he would wake up, he had to return home and endure all the words thrown at him for disappearing. His eyes scrunched painfully as he attempted to open them against the bright sun. He felt the heavy warmth of another’s body wrapped around him. He hummed happily and bathed in the tepidness until he felt a wetness leak from his body. His eyes snapped open and he gasped, waking up the other prince wrapped around him. Phillip jumped to sit up, 

“What’s-” Phillip’s hand was covered in Charming’s blood. His bandaged had loosened and the prince’s wound had ripped back open. Phillip sat foolishly with a sword in his hand because he thought there were an intruder and his red cloak wrapped haphazardly across his shoulders. Charming looked at the display and began to laugh, a full on,  _ stomach splitting  _ laugh. 

“Why are you laughing when you’re bleeding?” Phillip spoke, words pitching high with panic.

“No way. I painted you and this exact moment.” The other prince looked completely lost but Charming giggled, dragging the prince in for a kiss. 

“You seriously don’t care about your well being. Had you not realized I had a sword in my hand?” Charming mumbles sweetly into his mouth as he rustles Phillip’s hair, removing the sword from the prince’s grip.  

| | 

Phillip had gotten dressed and walked towards Samson who had magically gotten untied from the trunk of the tree. Prince Phillip almost raked his blood-soaked hands through his hair in frustration but remembered last minute. Reaching into his bag strapped to the side of Samson he pulled out a canteen of water and bandages.

| | 

As the castle came into view, Charming became more self-conscious of his obvious bed hair and dirtied clothing, but with small reassuring smiles from both Phillip and oddly Samson, he felt much better. A guard emerging from the staircase saw Charming and ran inside, loud screaming and hurried footsteps came bolting towards them. Windbag runs up to them monocle forgotten and dark circles deeper than his hair color. Without a word he comes up to Charming and wraps his arms around the young prince, a sob bellowing out of his chest. 

The door opens once more and the King comes out, brows knitted with dried tear stains on his cheeks. He looks to Phillip with a vacant expression and then to his son, tears beginning to form once more.

“Please, don’t ever leave without saying something ever again.” The duke whispers. 

The King looked over his son beside Windbag. 

“How’s your wound?” Charming startled, stutters to answer. 

“It reopened but I replaced his bandage since he bled through the other one.” The Duke and King looked to Phillip as he answered. 

“Did you take him?” Charming flinched at his father’s accusing tone but answered for Phillip. 

“I left the castle angry and he had brought me into the woods so I could calm down and get some air. I fell asleep and we came back this morning.” Charming’s face became stern, unapologetic,  _ Kingly. _

“There was absolutely nothing to be concerned about. As future ruler of this kingdom and I demand to be able step foot inside of it.” Charming could see the dread on Windbag’s face. The King drilled holes into Phillip’s skull but the prince’s pride for Charming’s words kept his expression light. 

“Why did you leave with him?” The King spoke to his son, eyes never leaving Phillip. 

Charming shifted, body feeling heavy and offcentered as anger began to swell once again. 

“Why would I want to stay with a father who looks at me with disgust and hatred for who I am.” The King’s demeanor changed, snapping towards his son with a disbelieving expression. 

“What-” 

“You said it yourself, it was the way he approached me,” Phillip swallowed, face burning up slightly. 

“The way he looked at me and held himself against me,” The King’s face turned green. 

“You know exactly why I left with him and whatever your thinking is  _ exactly  _ what happened.” The Duke covered his face, panic rising as he stepped away from Charming, his father looking away from his son. 

“I slept with another prince last night, father. I don’t want to lie with another woman or master sword fighting if it makes me a  _ man. _ I will not give up dance and painting because I will not let you  _ change me. _ ” Charming spat, body looming over his father’s. 

Soft hands pull at Charming’s waist, pulling him back from his father.

“You said what you needed to say. That’s all for now.” Phillip whispered, words airy as it calmed down Charming’s heated body, a need for comfort vibrating in his skin. 

“I’m sorry,” It was wet, the words. They dripped out of his father’s mouth painfully. 

“I’m sorry for my blind hatred and disgusting outlook. I didn’t want to believe something that seemed so vile in my mind,” Charming shuddered, eyes wide. 

“It’s not vile. It’s not…” The King heavily sat on the steps, covering his face.  

“I’m sorry, son.” Charming dropped to his knees, arms wrapping around the bulbous circle called his father.

“I love you.” Charming whispered, sniveling noises growing louder from the King. 

| | 

“And that is how I broke my leg on the hammock in our yard because of Windbag.” Phillip laughed, hair being played with as they listened to music on Charming’s bed. The door began to open and Phillip hopped to his feet, running towards the open window he had come from. 

“Ah uh I knew you were in here Prince Phillip. Close the window for heaven’s sake.” Phillip’s face turned red with shame as he took down the foot he had on the window sill and closed it, returning to Charming’s side. 

Windbag shook his head and came towards the bed, sitting down and adjusting his monocle. 

“I know you enjoy hiding away in our kingdom but your parents have been searching for you.” Charming looked to Phillip, brows knitting together. 

“You need to let them know you’re safe,” Windbag looks over Charming, half his body draped lovingly around the other young prince. 

“I know how hard it is to not be able to sleep because of worry.” Phillip looks down at his and Charming’s intertwined hands and nods. Windbag reaches out to their interlaced fingers and pats them before getting up to leave. The door closes and Charming kneels up, sitting on Phillip’s thighs and hugging him. 

“What you did with your father,” Phillip spoke softly. 

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough for that.” Charming pulled back, peppering small kisses on his lips before curling his face into his neck. 

“Yes you are. And I’ll be here for when you come back.” Phillip closed his eyes and took a deep breath, wrapping his prince closer to him in his arms. 

“I love you so much, Charming.” The prince pulled back and kissed him, heart pouring into it. 


End file.
